[color=#e2e2e2][b]DESTINY ASCENDANT
MAIN HANGAR[/b]

The commander sighed. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to hammer on the trigger of her sidearm until the heatsink overloaded. But the situation made that impossible. [i]Or did it?[/i] Her mind pieced together ways to make it work, no doubt the manifestation of her suppressed rage about to boil over. Nothing she could think up could pass a rigorous tactical analysis, or if it could it was far too unsatisfying. Vaporizing his entire transport upon departure was quite viable, but she wanted personal retaliation. She wanted to personally see his cold, dead corpse lying crumpled at her feet.
“Fortunately for you ...” she glowered at the fleetmaster, speaking through grit teeth, “I have a more significant, more immediate problem to deal with.”
She had thought through her strategy. It was excruciatingly unsatisfying, but it would keep everyone alive and ensure that her plans for the future were not revealed. He may see her hatred, but he could not know just how far the Imperial Navy was willing to go to collect his corpse.

“We have contacts incoming. These are not unknown contacts, this is an enemy we have battled before. They have advanced cloaking and fusion torpedo technologies beyond our own. Sensors tells me we have ... about seven, maybe eight minutes ... probably closer to seven, before incursion. I need to ready my ship for combat and per protocol, I cannot have any of you still standing around in the hangar. I highly recommend you prepare for immediate departure. I cannot take responsibility for your lives if you choose to remain aboard my vessel. Now if you will excuse me, I will be in the briefing room strategizing. If you need me, knock.”

She did not wait for a response. Instead she turned around, grunted under her breath, and stepped into the briefing room. The sliding door shut behind her as she engaged the holotable. For a brief moment, she considered turning on her heels and gunning the fleetmaster down from where she stood. The shot was clear ... but without synchronizing the strike with the marine team, his bodyguards would represent a major problem. She returned her mind to the plan, finally able to brief the bridge crew in the privacy of a sound-dampened room. “Tactical, get ready to engage those sleeper torpedoes. Mark targets for a flash jump maneuver. Have railgun turrets 8 through 12 fire towards them once they’re engaged. We’re faking an ambush.”

“Copy you Commander; be advised we have an additional transmission incoming from outside the system. They too appear to be staking claim to the planet below.”
“Aria have mercy, [i]what to they want?![/i]” Muriel barked.
Her XO ran the transmission. “Well if their sensors are remotely capable then they probably realize that their goals are a waste of time,” Muriel supposed.
“Well then why would they contact us anyway?”
Dyykes had her stumped. He raised a valid question. She thought about it for several seconds. “Can you trace it? If you find them, set our jump position to relatively close by. I think we might have a shred of common ground,” she ordered.
“Commander Muriel, you’re not ... If we do that’s an act of war!”
“Welcome to black ops Dyykes. Truth be told, I’m impressed we made it this far without killing anything yet ...” she contemplated just how bad it could get, “at the bare minimum, we get clear of the Covenant and can file preliminary reports whether we choose to return to Tiir or go for engagement.”
“Fair enough, Boulti is running the trace now.”
Muriel rubbed her hands across her face. Black ops took nerves stronger than steel. Any other commander would be dead by now, but she bided her time, bottled her emotions, and planned very ... [i]very[/i] carefully.[/color]